Chapter 149

Hanni and Hari were a pair of sisters that had travelled all around of the country offering their shows. Hanni was the older of the two with twenty-five years while Hari was nineteen.

For their shows, Hanni played a string instrument called zither; it was a rectangular shaped hollowed box with twenty strings. Meanwhile, Hari would dance to the rhythm of her sister's playing. 

None of their shows was rehearsed; they simply played and danced to their hearts' content. They had a bit of fame around in some cities and were often called to entertain in several tea houses.

Their family once owned an instruments shop in a city close to the capital. They were not rich, but they never missed any meals and lived rather well. 

That was until their father was scammed. The shop, somehow, ended up under the name of another person who readily kicked them out to the streets with the gendarmes behind him. If they did not get out of the house, they would be thrown to prison.

The family hastily grabbed a few of their possessions and left. 

Their father tried to get the shop back, but all those people he considered friends turned their backs to him, leaving him in total despondency. Their mother and the sisters worked around doing random jobs like cleaning and washing.

The family could not even afford renting a house, so they opted for staying at cheap inns. That method, though, left them with barely some coins to eat a simple meal a day.

Months later, tired of their situation, their father hanged himself. 

Due to the shock, their mother instantly fell sick. To make things worse, because of what their father did, no other inn allowed them to stay. The sister could barely earn enough money to let their mother stay at a public clinic while they slept in the streets.

On one of the coldest nights in winter, their mother silently passed away. Hanni was eighteen while Hari was twelve. From that day on, they became complete orphans to the mercy of the world.

More than once, Hanni thought of selling herself into a brothel to earn a few coins for her younger sister. However, her unbroken dignity did not allow her to. She rather clean stinky pots than let herself be insulted in such a way.

She still ended up working at a brothel. Not as a companion, but as the zither player that entertained the guests and companions. Their parents had not owned an instruments shop in vain, letting her learn to play as many instruments as she liked.

It was not a well-paid job, but they clothed and fed her. It saved her and her sister from that expense. 

Three years later, the brothel closed down. Some said the owner ran away with the money because someone wanted to attempt on his life. Nobody knew for sure. 

Most of the companions went to other brothels while very few left the city to start anew in another place. Hanni was allowed to keep the zither and the clothes. Nobody cared anyway, they all just grabbed as much as they could and left. 

With the money they were able to save by spending as little as possible, they started their journey around the country. 

The idea of playing and dancing came from Hari. She had seen a few entertainers in the restaurant she used to work at washing the dishes, and she was immediately attracted to the idea of moving like those women with very slim waists.

The problem with the idea was that Hari had never learned to dance. And, whenever she tried to move like those women while Hanni played just made the older sister stop playing to laugh.

Hari, though, was not deterred!

If she could not dance like those women, then she would dance like herself!

Clad in one of her sister's most beautiful clothes, she expressed the music she heard with her body. The square where she first performed was almost empty and only a few passersby stopped to watch for a moment before continuing on their way. That time, they earned 7 dimes. It was enough to buy one drink at one of the streets carts.

The applause and appreciation of the people Hari expected did not come. So, she wanted to give up. Hanni said to keep trying. They had some money, so they could do it for a couple of weeks more before they needed to desperately look for a job.

Day after day, they presented themselves in that same square. Hanni played whatever she wanted and Hari danced to it. Day after day, those who saw them increased and the money they earned also increased. With that money, they moved to the following town.

Like that, for four years, they forged their own fame, earning the attention of a few people they would otherwise never involve themselves with. Influential people were always bad news; they had learned that the bad way.

After promising one presentation at the house of some Lord, they were no longer pestered. Once their presentation was over, the ugly face of aristocracy revealed itself. 

Insulted, their clothes torn and their hair in disarray, they were thrown out of the Lord's house. The bag of money thrown at their feet for their services the last nail on the coffin. 

They quickly left that city and ran as far up north as they could, away from that place. Four months later, a reminder of that insult showed in Hanni. The sisters could do nothing but stay in the town where they discovered the pregnancy. Basin Town.

Due to Hanni's belated symptoms, they could only present themselves at the square once a week. The money they earned was enough for a roof above their heads and food in their stomachs for that week. They felt as if they were back at the start.

It was Hari who saw the recruitment sheet.

"Hanni! They are hiring entertainers!" The nineteen-year-old excitedly told her sister.

"Who?" The eldest sister asked, hope blooming in her heart. 

"This new tea house is looking for entertainers. They offer a salary if hired!" Hari had not only seen the sheet, she also heard the ladies in the market avidly talk about the matter. "Let's go!"

How could Hanni say no? If they did not start getting more income, she did not know what they would do when the baby was born. 

Their excited and hopeful faces strained a bit when they saw the place. It was not big and not many people could be seen around. They doubted the place would succeed in the future. However, they had already arrived, so it was best to try.

Inside, the place resounded with music and they saw many other entertainers waiting their turn to perform. They looked at the layout and concluded the renovation was still ongoing. It looked nothing like those tea houses that offered entertainment. 

It didn't even have a stage!

Hari stared at the table where two women, one man and a toddler were raptly watching the performance.

"The woman in the middle. Doesn't she look familiar?" She whispered at Hanni.

"Never seen her." Hanni barely glanced at the people her sister pointed at, too preoccupied on the cramp on her legs. If it persisted, she would not be able to play the zither. 

Troupe after troupe presented their performance, and the trio of adults at the table did not say any positive review that guaranteed the troupe that they would be hired.

"Tough people." Hari commented.

"Or they don't know what they want." Hanni countered.

"Let's show them we are what they were looking for." Hari confidently said, pulling her sister up. Hanni winced as her legs were still cramped. She didn't think she was able to play for so long. 

She put aside her discomfort and placed the zither on the floor and knelt, her cramped legs letting her know what a bad idea it was. 

The pain made her randomly pull a string. A low note. She cursed inside and followed the pull with a fast arpeggio on the higher notes. She repeated the motions, which earned the attention of the three people at the table. 

It was their chance!

As she started with a base and got creative with her arpeggios, her sister started to move. 

Hari, sincerely had not been ready for the first note, and looked at her sister. She knew it was a mistake, but with her sister smoothly making a follow up, she could do nothing but start her dance. 

The music made her think of an encounter, two enemies, face to face.

The umbrella in her hand turned into a sword and pointed it at her imaginary enemy. Then, she moved in circles, circling the opponent her other arm moving in soft waves, looking for an opening. When she saw it, she struck fast and lethal. 

The umbrella opened and she bent backward. The umbrella fell and her body lurched forward to engage in a hand-to-hand fight. Her body twirl, contorted, made itself small and expanded. Her clothes flared, her hair swayed.

The moves took her back to her forgotten umbrella; she hooked it with her foot and threw it up. After catching it, she loudly closed it. 

The music was over. The fight was over.

She pressed on her stomach, looked at her hand, she smiled and looked up. 

Then, her body crumbled to the floor.